The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld 13)

Narcissism used Viola to do his dirty work.

As the goddess of the Afterlife, she could siphon someone's--anyone's--life force. She simply needed permission, whether that permission came wittingly or unwittingly.

The night she'd met McCadden, she'd sensed an easy target. Rejected by his family for...a reason she'd chosen not to hear, he'd been desperate for affection. She'd smiled and turned on the charm, and in only a few weeks he'd handed over his life force on a silver platter, allowing her to feed Fluffy, keeping her beloved pet alive another century or two.

Won't feel guilty, won't feel guilty, damn it, I won't feel guilty.

Afterward she'd walked away from McCadden, leaving him to his doomed fate, certain she would never speak to him again.

How can he look at me with such kindness?

She wanted him to rail and scream at her.

"I love you still," he said.

She shook her head, adamant. "You can't. I sentenced you to hell."

He pounded a fist against his chest, unyielding. "I know what I feel."

Burning behind her eyes. No crying. Not here. "Feelings change," she whispered. "Besides, look where yours got you."

A thousand screams erupted inside her head--and they were all her own. She wanted to shout at him, You're a fool! Protect yourself from further harm! She would only ever do what proved best for herself and her pet, and therefore the demon.

She'd catered to the fiend so long, he'd gained a stronghold inside her. Had shackled her with invisible chains. Now he owned her.

But that was how evil worked, wasn't it.

At first, the demon's darkness had been nothing but a tiny seed. The more attention she'd paid it, the more she'd watered it, the bigger and stronger it had grown. Until its roots had anchored deep, deep inside her, its branches and leaves shielding her from any hint of light.

"My brother has vowed to find you and take back what you stole from me," he said.

"There's nothing left to reclaim." It was the truth. Soon the mortal Fluffy would need another infusion of power, and Viola would hunt for another Sent One. Any immortal would do, but hey, why not kill two birds with one stone? Save Fluffy, placate Narcissism.

Besides, Sent Ones had the purest life forces. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if your brother picks a fight with me, I will do to him what I did to you."

Cannot lose my baby. Just can't. He'd become her best friend, her only source of comfort...her family. Her fanged, rage-happy, overprotective family.

She would hate herself for hurting another immortal, and probably cry, but she would do what needed doing without hesitation.

McCadden clenched his fists, and she noted the small claws protruding from his nail beds. He'd begun his transformation, then. So often fallen Sent Ones became look-alikes for the demons they had once hunted.

"My brother's name is Brochan," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He is--was--the best demon slayer ever born. He's cut through hordes like butter."

"His name is Broken? Seriously?" Poor guy had been shafted from day one.

McCadden continued. "Spelled B-R-O-C-H-A-N. Perhaps you've heard of him? He's fallen but still winged. He escaped to the skies before the appendages could be removed." Envy now layered his tone. He missed his wings, then, and she wouldn't feel guilty--she couldn't let herself. "Evil has infected him, twisted him...made him into a monster."

Fallen...winged...twisted...

Monster.

Had to be her shadow. The one who'd called her "forsaken."

For several seconds, her heart forgot how to beat. Now, at least, she knew what the blue-skinned, silvery-eyed beast had planned for her.

He planned to destroy her. To punish her for her crimes against his brother.

But why hadn't he struck already? He'd had multiple opportunities, and yet he'd only ever warned her.

Perhaps he sought to lure her into a false sense of trust? Perhaps he planned to do to her what she'd done to his brother, willingly ceding her heart to him, leaving her with nothing?

She should have dreaded the coming battle, but it was anticipation she experienced.

"If you stay here," McCadden said, "I'll protect you from my brother. The others will protect you, too. They've vowed it."

Break him once and for all. Finish him off, so he'll stop looking out for me and start looking out for himself.

"The others are fools," she told him. At last she met his gaze, allowing her features to harden right before his eyes. "But you are worse. You seek to protect the one who harmed you--the one who will harm you again--and you've asked your friends to do the same."

Cruel to be kind. A motto as deceptive as the demon, but one she clung to, lest she finally break down.

Devastation darkened his eyes annnnd yes, fangs extended from his gums. Becoming the demons he'd once slain.

"You don't mean those words." For the first time, he'd slurred.

Cruel. To. Be. Kind. She twirled a lock of pale hair around her finger and offered her most self-loving smile. "You aren't the first male to fall for me, and you won't be the last. At least the others had the balls to hate me afterward. I suggest you do the same before I take more than your manhood."

His body trembled...or vibrated with growing rage. As he took an aggressive step toward her, the doors burst open and the beast--Brochan--swooped into the room. He landed between Viola and McCadden, his gaze on Viola.

Fluffy snarled, his little body vibrating with fury.

She'd never been this close to her stalker, had only ever seen him from a distance, at different heights. On level ground, he towered over her, a fortress of muscle and hostility. His wings flared, stretching from wall to wall, the black tips reeking of blood and ash. His face...before she'd thought he somehow straddled the line between grotesque and exquisite. Now she knew. He was magnificent. He had lashes so long they curled at the ends. And freckles! He had three freckles underneath his left eye. His chin had an adorable cleft, basically a sign that said Lick here.

Narcissism began to wonder if making such a powerful creature fall in love with her would prove to be his greatest accomplishment. The first sparks of panic bloomed in Viola's chest.

Brochan extended a clawed finger, pointing at her. "Forsaken."

McCadden grabbed his brother by the shoulder, but Brochan easily shook him off and moved toward her.

Heart hammering against her ribs, Viola scooped Fluffy into her arms and flashed away. Retreating. Something she'd told herself she wouldn't do.

But she needed time. Time t

o plan her next move.

*

Lazarus struggled to control blistering rage, staggering shock and searing arousal.

Cameo was here, finally within reach, and yet another man had dared to put his arms around her. Possessiveness consumed him, and Lazarus's veins burned as new crystals formed.

He decided to deal with the shock first, wanting no obstacles to his prize. His woman, and the death of the Sent One holding her.

He'd done it. He'd actually entered the mortal world.

Upon stepping into the portal, he'd experienced total sensory deprivation. He'd thought he'd taken a gamble and lost. The knowledge had awakened his inner monster, his fangs and claws returning, the crystals in his veins throbbing. But as they'd throbbed, lights had begun to pulse and blur. Seconds later, he'd fallen down, down, down, landing in an open field of wildflowers. No one had been around. Not spirit, not human, not immortal.

Cautious, uncertain but not daring to hope, he'd flashed to a home he'd built and hidden centuries ago. It resided in one of the lands that formed an archipelago of New Zealand Subantarctic Islands. A place he'd been unable to reach inside the spirit realms.

Seeing his cabin had driven him to his knees. Yes, the wood had rotted, and yes, weather and wildlife had left their mark, but what did that matter? Lazarus lived. Lived! After being beheaded.

His father was right. He would live forever. He wasn't sure how or why, exactly, but he now suspected the crystals were the catalyst. The way they'd throbbed...

Impossible. The crystals were his downfall. They didn't strengthen him; they weakened him, and a feeble man survived nothing. Lazarus's movements were already slower than usual, his range of motion more limited.

He'd thought, Find and seduce Cameo. Kill Juliette and Hera before it's too late.

He'd cloaked himself in an illusion of invisibility and flashed to Budapest. He'd swept through Cameo's home, a veritable fortress, remaining unseen to the occupants. After reading a mind or twelve, he discovered she'd left earlier that morning. He'd hidden the magic mirror in her bedroom, happy the glass had survived the journey, and set off on a hunt of his own.

Murmurs filled his head, yanking him into the present.

"Is that Lazarus the Cruel and Unusual?"

"Dude! Didn't I hear he'd gotten his neck trimmed?"

Lazarus breathed deep, the scents stronger here than in the spirit realm. He detected notes of alcohol and ambrosia, a cloying mix of immortal perfumes, the wood, steel and mortar used to build the club, and a deluge of too many other things to pinpoint. No, not too many others--three stood out above all the rest. Roses, bergamot and neroli.